Camellia made the crossing from the Fauchard to the Ischyros. The two ships had parked just outside of their proposed shortcut. They would take a week to make modifications, and Rooks said that the Scaldin fortune teller wanted to read the area before they proceeded. In the end, it meant that the two ships would cozy up to each other for seven days. The ships were so close in fact, Rooks proposed an umbilical between them, so that the crews could get to know each other.

Camellia traveled through that umbilical. She faltered, as she stepped through the springy material of the tube. Camellia outstretched her hands. She felt the rough texture of the white fabric as she grasped from one handhold to the next. The ships projected a gravity field in the tube, but the field grew weak at the center. Camellia felt a few pounds lighter, and her hair drifted up.

Her heart pounded, and she glanced back. No one watched for her at the Iruedian side of the tube. She looked ahead. No one watched for her on the Scaldin side.

Camellia opened her mouth to speak to herself, but the initial sound was so weak, she stopped.

Camellia stumbled forward and kept her eyes on the hole to the Scaldin ship.

As she crossed closer to the Ischyros, her hair drifted back down. It came to rest on her shoulders, and a few steps later, she fell free, onto solid ground.

Camellia sat on the floor and sighed her relief. Her heart began to slow but quickly picked back up. Camellia sat in the midst of an argument.

Wide eyed, she looked up. An image of the Mother Tree stretched over the ceiling, and beneath it, as if receiving the tree’s blessing, six Scaldin guards detained two Iruedian officers.

“I don’t see why I have to delete it.” The first Iruedian man held a camera close to his chest.

“You’re taking images of our ship. If it’s so innocent, you’ll let us have a look.” The Scaldin officer held out his hand.

Other Scaldin officers crowded the two Iruedian men. One glanced Camellia’s way and broke off. She would face their scrutiny soon.

“Just let him look.” The second Iruedian man put a hand on his friend’s arm.

“No. It’s my personal com. I’m not giving it up. Who knows if he’ll give it back?”

“If you think I want to keep your strange purple com, you’re mistaken,” the Scaldin officer scoffed.

Camellia tried to watch the rest of the fight, but a pair of uniformed legs blocked her view. A Scaldin officer offered her a hand up. She took it, and he lifted her to her feet.

“I only took pictures of that damn tree. I don’t have anything that could be used against your ship. As if I was even allowed in Engineering or one of the weapons stations.”

“If it’s pictures of the Mother Tree, you can let me have a look.”

The fight continued. Camellia deduced that the Iruedian officer had something on his camera he really didn’t want the Scaldin to see. Perhaps, he didn’t want his companion to see either.

“Apparently, I have to ask now. Do you have a camera present on your person?” The Scaldin officer gave Camellia an intense stare.

Camellia put her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, god. Yes, but it’s not for what you think. I’m an archaeologist.”

“What do you plan on taking pictures of?”

Camellia froze. The book! She had permission for that though. “I’ll show you my pictures on the way back. It wouldn’t bother me.”

The man held out his hand. “Give me that camera. You can get it back when you’re ready to return over the umbilical.”

Camellia put a hand over the camera that dangled at her side. It was an older model, and it didn’t belong to her. It belonged to the AAH. The delicate instruments had been broken by many unexperienced anthropologists. To give it to the Scaldin man could spell its next injury.

“It’s very sensitive equipment.”

“It’s a camera.”

Another Scaldin guard drew his gun. “Alright. The three of you up against the wall.”

The two Iruedian crew protected the purple com, even as they were pushed into place.

Camellia gasped. The Scaldin officer tried to grab her, but she hurried to her spot, keeping a protective hand over her camera.

“You can wait, until we sort this out.”

Three officers had their guns trained on the three Iruedians.

“Now, let’s start with that purple excuse for a com.” The Scaldin man approached.

The Iruedian officer finally looked ready to hand it over.

“What are you doing?” A woman asked.

Camellia glanced over to find Pan.

Pan pointed at Camellia and the other Iruedians. “What did they do?”

The Scaldin guards stiffened.

One backed off to talk to Pan. “Suspicious camera activity.”

Pan laughed. “Suspicious camera activity? Do you mean orbs? Shadows? Images of your long-lost relatives?” Pan stared at the humorless man. “Oh, you mean they have images of our ship.” Pan held up a finger and strolled to the man with the purple com. She held out her hand.

“He says he only has images of the Mother Tree.”

“That’s not a crime.” Pan faced the man. “Just let me see it. It’s better than one of these guys having a look.”

The Iruedian officer handed over his com.

A Scaldin guard tried to sneak a peek over Pan’s shoulder, but she put her back against the wall.

She scrolled through the pictures with her fingers. “Mother Tree. Mother Tree. Mother Tree. Oh, not the Mother Tree.”

A guard started forward.

Pan glared at him. “Also, none of your business.” She finished scrolling through the images and gave the com back. “There’s nothing on there for you to be worried about.” Pan shooed the Iruedians away. “Hurry back to your ship.”

They took the advice.

The guards’ grey skin flushed a little red.

One asked, “And the archaeologist?”

Pan reached for Camellia. “She’s my guest. I’m going to take her now.” Pan grabbed Camellia’s shoulder and pulled her away from the wall. “Bye.” She waved her farewell to the guards.

“Damned reaper,” a man said under his breath.

Another added, “Damned arcanes.”

Camellia held her camera to her chest and let Panphila guide her away. When she could no longer hear the guards speak, she took a deep breath. If she couldn’t hear them, they certainly couldn’t hear her.

“I guess you have a higher rank than they do.” Camellia nodded over her shoulder. “I thought I was going to end up in the brig. Over a camera.”

“I think they’d just take it and send you back. And, no I don’t have a high rank.” Pan stared ahead as she led them down winding halls.

Camellia watched Pan and studied the other woman’s stiff expression. “They’re afraid of you. What was that they called you? Reaper? With a name like that…”

Pan smiled but not with joy. “With a name like that…” Her eyes searched the corridor as she walked. “I’m not even a reaper. Not anymore. But they won’t let me forget it.”

Camellia felt her eyes narrow and a frown tug at the corners of her mouth.

Pan gestured to the walls around them. “Be careful saying that word in this place. If you say it too loud, you’ll make the crew nervous. They dislike the concept more than me.”

Camellia searched the hall for others but found no one. “Why is that? What does a reaper do?”

“A reaper is a kind of arcane that steals powers from other arcanes – dead arcanes,” Pan added.

“Oh.” Camellia felt her frown deepen. How could someone steal spellcraft? If she didn’t come up with an answer during their discussion, she would have to pose the question to Meladee and the Ferrans.

The two walked in silence. They traveled through the labyrinth that was the Ischyros, until Pan stopped at a door.

“Here we are.” She tried the lock twice. The first time, she failed to unlock the door. The second time, she got it. “I don’t use these quarters much, so pardon the dust.” Pan stepped inside and turned on the light. She beckoned Camellia to follow.

Camellia saw the book upon a table, nearby the door. She entered. Things seemed to be in order.

Pan closed them in, and Camellia turned to face the former reaper.

Now, Pan frowned. “What?”

Camellia glanced at the book. “Nothing. Well…maybe…”

Of course, the Iruedians couldn’t fathom what it meant to be bound. They had no bound of their own. Pan explained the situation to Camellia, and she watched understanding and surprise enter Camellia’s eyes.

Pan hadn’t wanted to, but she then had to explain what she’d been and briefly how she came to be unbound. She skipped over ninety percent of the details. It was too long a story to tell. Pan kept it simple. She was a reaper in secret. She robbed graves. She left her planet. A Volanter unbound her upon her decision to return to Scaldigir.

Pan could see that Camellia still had questions, but she could also see that Camellia was content to let them stand. Camellia seemed to have an intuition for pain. She looked away when Pan came to the difficult statements, and she didn’t pry where it was not necessary.

Now, Camellia looked through the book. “Oh my. They fit a lot of content in here.”

Pan smiled. “Did you bring your magnifying glass. If not, I have mine.” Pan pulled a ridiculously large glass from a drawer under the tableside.

Camellia laughed when she saw it and took it from Pan’s hand. She looked through the book with the glass poised a proper distance for magnification. “It’s amazing,” Camellia said. “It’s everything. My…uh…the foremost Iruedian scholar on Volanters would have loved to see this.”

Pan thought Camellia’s words sounded a bit too reverent for someone who was simply the foremost scholar on Volanters, and Camellia had said my before she corrected herself. But, Pan planned to return the courtesy. Camellia hadn’t pried beyond the necessary history. Panphila would do the same.

“I guess that you changed your fashion when you were on your own.” Camellia gestured to Pan’s dress.

Pan startled. She looked down at her person. So much for not prying. “What?”

“You wear a lot of stars, blue, plain fabrics. The other Scaldin wear flowers.” Camellia put the magnifying glass down and faced Pan. She held up her hands, as if searching for the right words. “You’re just…set apart from the others.”

Pan drew a sharp breath. “When I was away from Scaldigir, the only flowery things I could find were prints. I didn’t want prints. I wanted flowers of lace and three dimensions. So, I switched to stars.” Pan crossed her arms. “And, half of those were stupid too. Five pointed, cartoonish things.” Pan swept a hand over her dress. “Still, I found some decent stars.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Camellia nodded. “It’s an experience, not entirely pleasant, when you find yourself outside your home culture.” She looked back to the book and flipped through the pages marked by Pan.

Pan drew a shuddering breath.

“You don’t fit on Scaldigir, and you don’t fit outside it,” Camellia said dreamily.

Pan felt her eyes widen. How out of line.

“I can relate.”

Pan held her breath. When she finally released it, she asked, “How?”

“I’m an anthropologist, but I’m also something of a reaper myself.” Camellia continued through the book, picking carefully from page to page.

Pan stiffened. “How so?”

“I’m a dhampir. That means that one of my parents was a vampire, and vampires drink blood.” Camellia looked up at Pan and waved a hand. “I can too, but I don’t.” She turned her attention back to the book.

Pan’s mouth hung open. “Your dad drinks blood? Mine works in a toy factory.”

“You’ve marked this spell.” Camellia paused on a page.

A circle took up half the space. Pan recognized it as one she’d seen during her fight with the old Volanter. Tight writing filled the other half of the page and continued on to the next, filling it as well.

“You know that one?” Pan pointed.

“Obsidian dream circle,” Camellia read. “I hope you’re not trying to learn it.”

Pan crossed her arms. “I can barely learn half of these. I don’t see how I’m going to master that one. Look at all the writing, and not even Sotir could fully understand it. What does it do?”

“It creates a kind of illusion that traps your mind. You have to solve a puzzle to escape. The why…I’m still not sure. Maybe, the answer is somewhere in these paragraphs.” Camellia bit her lower lip. “It’s trouble.”

Pan stepped away. “Well, I can’t learn it. Your mages will learn these circles long before me.”

Camellia stopped and looked Pan in the eyes. “I don’t think so. These spells are the kind that only Volanter could do. There’s a reason why we developed the multi-circle spell. It puts more of the work into the symbols and less into the individual. You’re probably the only person who can do these spells.” Camellia gently pointed at the book, her finger hovering just outside of touch. “Just please, as a favor to us all, don’t learn this one.”

Pan nodded. She would keep that promise, especially since her suspicion of Camellia evaporated in the moment. What were they thinking? Camellia was no spy. She was touched by the Volanter, in a bad way.

Pan felt a sinking relief. She had no competition for the spell book. Her relief lived a short life, however. It changed into dread. If she was the only one who could match a Volanter, they were in trouble.

Irini couldn’t believe she was doing this. Alban admitted that the Iruedians seemed fine, but he still sent her over to the Fauchard to do some snooping.

Irini had instructions to look for anyone who might sympathize with Volanters, or think they were swell, or something like that. She also had to spy on Engineering for a little while, just to make sure the hull modifications were actually being made to the Fauchard. Alban thought they might insist the Ischyros get extra solar shielding and additional hull plating along key points while the Fauchard got nothing. Then, the Fauchard would say after you, and send the Ischyros into the shortcut for the Volanters to pick up and eat.

Those weren’t Alban’s exact words, but they had to be what he was thinking.

As she stumbled through the umbilical, Irini thought Alban had gone off the deep end. Irini almost tripped at the center. She wondered if she would invert and have to handstand herself across the rest, but she stayed on her feet. Her hair floated up from her head, and white coils caught some static as they slid along the umbilical interior.

When Irini burst onto solid deck once again, she looked left and right. Two Iruedian guards greeted her. They didn’t wear uniforms, but they had the Iruedian version of arcane rings, circles layered inside of circles, on their clothing.

“Welcome to the Fauchard,” one said.

“Thanks.” Irini started to walk away. She thought she’d begin with Engineering, since she bet she could rule it out in an instant. Her golden thread appeared on her hand and zipped down a corridor, urging her forward.

“Do you need any help finding your way?” the other guard asked.

Irini turned around. “No, I’m good. Thanks. I’m just coming to explore for a bit. Captain Alban wants me out of the way.” Irini hadn’t used Alban’s title in a while, but she felt compelled to give the man some respect while on the “enemy” ship.

“Alright. If you get lost, don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

The guards left Irini to it, and she felt that Alban was not fair to them at all. Irini strolled the ship and found it busier than the Ischyros. Crew seemed to walk back and forth. They stopped to talk more and generally seemed friendly.

Irini stopped. “Whoa.”

A great staircase rose before her. It headed up and dove down.

“Cool.” Irini stepped inside the stairwell.

She followed her glittering thread down step after step, barely noticing the people that passed. She felt like a girl in a fairy tale on that staircase. It was like the palaces and castles that Liti and Soffigen had on their respective home planets. Scaldigir did not have castles or palaces, just some nice houses, which weren’t even large by other planet’s standards.

Irini drifted into a daydream and ceased to see the ship around her. She imagined herself instead within one of those castles, until the moment she stepped over Engineering’s threshold.

“Hey, kid. We might be more welcoming than your ship, but you still can’t come into Engineering.” An engineer blocked Irini’s path.

Irini felt her eyes go wide. “Oh. I’ll just turn around then.” She stared at her hand. She didn’t have a new thread.

“Are you a mage?” A woman asked.

Irini froze. “No.” She shook her head.

“So, Scaldin just take kids on to their ships?” The woman crossed her arms. She was a mage by the looks of her. She wore the uniform and some extra accessories, gears printed with magic circles. Her straight dark hair swung just above her shoulders as she headed for Irini. “What are you doing with your hands, kid?”

Irini dropped her hands. “Nothing. Look. I’ll just go.”

“Not without an escort. I don’t think you should be alone on this ship.” The Iruedian mage reached for Irini’s wrist.

“I’ll go.”

Eva remembered Irini – the white-haired, little mage. She guessed that Irini had some spell in the works, but she wasn’t sure which.

Eva reached the mouth of Engineering. “I have less to do than you at the moment.” She gestured Aina, a tinkerer mage from Ponk, to return to the work station.

Aina turned away. “Sure. Good luck.”

Eva didn’t need it. She wasn’t afraid of a little mage, especially one so scared. She felt Sten stare at her, ignoring his tablet. He watched Eva’s entire exit from Engineering, probably with a glow of admiration.

“Hi. I’m Irini.”

Eva gestured for Irini to keep up. “I know. I remember. What are you doing in Engineering?”

Irini shrugged. “I’m…tasked with making sure you make the modifications.” Irini hung her head.

“Oh.” Eva crossed her arms. She saw the tall staircase in the distance, beckoning them to the climb. Eva would climb it and force Irini, as punishment for the intrusion. No elevators for her. “We want to get home quickly. So, be assured that we’re preparing ourselves for this shortcut and possibly more. What would be our motive for tricking you into taking the shortcut alone?”

Irini sighed. “So that we would get caught by the Volanter, and you could get away free.”

Eva stopped by an elevator. She looked ahead to the stairs but soon abandoned her idea for punishment. She hit the elevator button. As the doors opened, Eva stepped inside.

Irini shot the stairs a wistful glance. She followed reluctantly.

An officer trotted for the elevator. If Eva didn’t hold it for him, he wouldn’t make it. Eva pressed the door close button and watched his hope deteriorate into frustration.

As the doors closed, Eva asked, “Why do you hate the Volanter so much?”

Irini perked up. “Cause they’re terrifying, I guess. I’ve only seen one.” Irini glanced down at her hands. She wiggled her fingers and seemed to study what she saw there.

Since Irini was so occupied, Eva let her incredulity and confusion show full on her face. She leaned in. “I need more details.”

Irini’s head bounced up. “Oh, right. Well, they have creepy faces that are really stiff and…”

The elevator doors slid open, and a man stepped in.

Eva gave him a glare of daggers, but he seemed not to notice. She shook her head slightly and looked at the mirrored wall, where she could see both her reflection and Irini’s. Eva’s face was anything but stiff at the moment.

In the reflection, Irini’s lips moved. The sound followed soon after. “Will you be offended if I ask you a personal question?”

Eva straightened and looked at Irini. “Go ahead.”

“Are you a machine? Like a robot?”

“Android,” Eva corrected.

The man turned around, with a grin on his face. “Could you tell?” He nodded to Eva. “I heard you guys didn’t have artificial life. I guess it’s that obvious. She and Sten are so straight-laced.”

Irini didn’t answer the man, even though he headed in the same direction as Eva and Irini.

Irini could tell Eva was frustrated, with both the aborted conversation and that blow to her ego. Irini could assure Eva that her question had nothing to do with Eva’s robotic nature, but Irini didn’t want to reveal her thread.

Inside the elevator, she’d asked it to find machines and objects used for the Fauchard’s preparation to enter the shortcut. One of the lines went to Eva, and that was how Irini knew.

Now, they headed in silence back to the umbilical. They couldn’t talk or wouldn’t. So, Irini completed her final task. She searched for the Volanter spies.

The thread found none. She searched for Volanter in disguise. She got another negative answer. Finally, she asked: where are the Volanter sympathizers?

Thousands of weak threads led in all directions; some led back; some led forward, some led into the walls. Irini almost tripped among the thousands of glittering strings, trying to avoid them.

There were sympathizers in droves aboard the Fauchard but no spies. They liked the Volanters, but that was all.

Irini glanced at Eva and saw that all the threads snaked around her. Eva was not a fan.

“You have any weapons on you?”

Meladee turned slow. It was the fifth time she’d been asked that. “You really have Iruedians walking over here armed?” She raised her eyebrows.

The Scaldin officer unfurled a wrap. Tucked inside were six daggers and one short sword – all Iruedian.

“Damn.” Meladee spread her hands. “They probably just forgot. Iruedim can be a rough place to live in terms of wildlife, so…” Meladee gestured to the weapons. “We just don’t realize we’re carrying that stuff.”

The man rolled the weapons back into the sleeve. Some of his seriousness fell away. “Is there anything you’ve forgotten?”

Meladee smiled. “Nope. Hate to say it though – I’m always armed. I’m a mage. You wanna see?”

He stared, and Meladee cast a simple light spell. The casting circle came and went in the palm of her hand, leaving blue light in its place.

She grinned and pointed at the result. “Yeah?”

He shook his head, stern and distrustful again, but didn’t take his eyes from the light.

A shot fired. The Scaldin officer shielded his face, a little too late to protect himself. He was lucky though. He was not the target.

Meladee shook out her hand. The shot had grazed her lower palm and left everything in that area numb. Meladee cast a quick shield and got a bubble of protection for her efforts. It showed itself for a moment, as if made of soap, and then, it blinked invisible.

Another shot rattled its surface.

“The fuck?” Meladee gestured to the man who shot at her.

The first Scaldin officer stood up and started across the junction.

Meladee thought the whole fiasco would be fixed, until she heard the hum of an Iruedian spell. “Oh no.” She searched the junction and peeked down a corridor.

She recognized the mage as Miron, a native of northern Ponk. She was glad to see he had her back, but it was the wrong time. Meladee gave him a panicked wave, but he focused on his spellcraft.

Vines shot out from his spell and grew through the corridor, into the junction, trapping several Scaldin officers. The vines wiggled. They had little snakelike faces, protruding from nubs. The Scaldin men shot the vines, and who could blame them? Meladee would have done the same. She watched two men turn up the settings of their guns. They fired on numbed vines, and the things shattered, hissing as they died.

Miron began another spell.

“Fuck! Miron, no!” Meladee made a cutting motion.

This time, Miron got the message. His spell hum died.

“Dispel it, man!” Meladee gestured to the mess of vines.

As Miron worked to dispel it, a cannister rolled into the junction. It spewed smoke. Meladee covered her mouth and nose. She rattled off a quick update to her shield and made it impenetrable. The bubble appeared and stayed, signifying that no air could get in or out. Meladee would eventually suffocate, but she thought she could fix this hilarious misunderstanding before that.

That’s how she would spin it to Rooks. It was unintended and funny in hindsight. They’d all laugh about it at dinner in a week.

“Should think before I spell too,” she mumbled.

Miron collapsed to the floor. More Iruedian spells hummed. Scaldin shots sped from halls and through the juncture, down more halls. Some hit their mark, and Meladee heard spells fizzle out. She backed away.

The Scaldin men, trapped in vines, slumped. They were victims of their peoples’ gas.

Meladee’s bubble bumped into the edge of a corridor and rippled, tucking up against her back. Meladee glanced behind her and began to edge her way into the hall.

Fire sped past her.

She jumped.

An elder Scaldin mage wielded the fire, keeping tight control of the places it traveled. The fire licked the vines. Hisses and screams rose into the air, and the vines shriveled. The captive Scaldin fell to the ground, with blackened plant matter to break their fall.

An alarm beeped, and water rained from the ceiling. It soaked everyone but Meladee. The rain thundered against her bubble, pinging in all directions. Meladee squinted through the downpour and saw a drenched Scaldin woman frowning back.

The rain didn’t last long, but Meladee felt the wet mess of smoking, black vines might have more staying power.

She dispelled her bubble.

The grey haired, Scaldin woman scowled at Meladee and waited.

Meladee chewed her lip. “You’re Kat, right?”

“Katiuscia Pian to you. You’re the last Iruedian left standing, so tell me…” Kat spread her arms. “Why?”

Meladee laughed nervously. “I completely, sincerely did not intend this.” Meladee gestured to the room. She took a look at the destruction and quickly glanced away. “So, I was asked if I had any weapons...”

Kat held up a hand. “Hold on. Aria!” She beckoned.

Meladee saw that the victim of that beckon happened to be one of the young Scaldin mages – the curly haired Aria.

Aria stood at the mouth of a hall. She surveyed the juncture, with wide-eyes.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I need you to read this one’s aura.” Kat pointed at Meladee.

Aria blinked fast.

Kat grabbed Meladee’s arm. “We’ll come to you.” She dragged Meladee over the vines, nearly tripping on one.

Meladee caught Kat. “Got to be careful of those. They’re pretty sinewy.”

Kat glared at Meladee. They crossed the rest of the juncture in silence.

“Alright, explain now.” Kat gestured for Meladee to recount the tale.

They stood a few steps back in the corridor, and Aria trained steady blue eyes on Meladee.

With a long sigh, Meladee began. She recounted the whole situation and left out her funny interpretation. She apologized, and the sound of groans punctured the last of her words.

Iruedians and Scaldin alike stirred, and another elder mage moved among them.

“She’s not lying, and she’s genuinely sorry,” Aria said.

Kat started for the juncture. “Report that to Alban and make sure their Curator Rooks knows.”

Aria gave a short nod. “Come on,” she said to Meladee. “I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

Aria would take some time to reenter that juncture. White and red painted the airspace, and with those black vines beneath the aura, it looked like a firescape. The sight would be in her nightmares.

Now, Aria had to bathe in anxious yellow and sorrowful blue. Both colors wafted off Meladee in waves, breaking free to crash against the walls.

“I thought I would just show him my light. Damn. I hope I haven’t ruined things. You know…I’m like…thirty.” Meladee’s brow knit. “Thirty-two? Thirty-one? I don’t know. I lost count. Point is – I’m supposed to be a mature adult.”

Aria smiled.

“So, aura reading your specialty?” Meladee asked.

Aria’s smile left, as if on speedy wings. “You could say that. It’s all I do.”

“Oh.” The dark tone of Meladee’s voice matched the dark blue that pumped into her aura. “They don’t teach you others?”

“I’m bound to the circle actually.” Aria stopped at the mouth of the umbilical.

Six suspicious guards watched their conversation, and if Aria had half the power that Pan did, she would have told them to go stand in the corner and hear none of it.

Meladee took one step into the umbilical. “I get it. Sorry about…both the things. I’ll go talk to the Curator, better face the music. Boy are Inez and Eder going to love their upcoming break.” Meladee wobbled in the umbilical, splashing her aura up the sides.

Aria stared. She could see the colors of all who had traveled through the tunnel. There were excited yellows, thoughtful blues, and puzzled shades of orange. Friendly streaks of yellow and green painted a couple of lines. Some fear and frustration stuck to the umbilical’s top and bumpy bottom.

Aria watched as Meladee’s colors hid the older ones, but only as she passed. When Meladee moved on, her colors mixed into the arrangement, swirling what was already there into waves.

“Are you going over?” a guard asked.

Aria shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.” She turned and walked away, ready to share some bad news with Alban.